I Dreamt Of You The Other Night
by Dead For All Time
Summary: Dean and Sam have a new case in Redlands, CA. While there, Sam starts having strange dreams that seem to be more than that. Could the be images of the past? Rating for later chapters. DeanSam. Onesided OCSam.
1. First Dream

_**I dreamt of you the other night...**_

_Cassandra Sunn_

Story Rating: PG-13 for incest, homosexuality, and language.

Chapter Rating: G

Genre: Romance

Summery: Sam begins having these strange dreams. Yet they don't seem like dreams. Could they be images of the past? DeanSam.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_. I do not own _Redlands Daily Facts_. And, just to be on the safe side, I don't own Redlands, California, St. Nazaire, or France. I do own Monique Couste, Jean-Pierre Charpontier, Franུois Capet, and their families. No stealing! growls at evil people stealers

Warnings: **WARNING!** There is slash in this story! And not just any slash. Incest slash. If that ain't your particular cup of tea, go away. Incesty tea is all I have. . ' I'm still going to get flamed for this...

Mindless Dribble: I hate plotbunnies!

(-)(-)(-)(-)  
_Chapter One: First Dream  
_(-)(-)(-)(-)

I ran down the beach, creating a small sandstorm behind me. My dear Jean-Pierre Charpontier turned towards me. His smile filled my heart with joy. I sped up and nearly fell into his arms. We clung to each other, my tears staining his coat.

"Oh, Monique," he murmured into my hair. "I'm so glad you're here. I am miserable every second you're not with me."

"Jean-Pierre," I murmured back. "What do we do? The wedding is in two days."

"I know, _ma cherie_. I know." He hugged me tighter.

"Why is the world so unfair? We are meant to be together! I know we are!"

"_Oui_, we are."

"We should marry for love, not money or class or whatever!"

"_Oui, ma cherie_."

"I don't love Francois. I love you."

"And I you. But your _pe__re_ does not care. Monsieur Capet has money. I do not."

"I wish you could talk to _papa_."

"Me? Talk to Monsieur Couste?"

"I know. It wouldn't work. Just the foolish thoughts of a girl in love."

Jean-Pierre chuckled softly. "I love your silly thoughts. You're so much better than any other girl I know, in every way. You're smart, beautiful, a joy to be with."

I smiled, a small blush creeping into my cheeks. "You always know what to say."

"I think I know of a way to be together."

"You do? Oh, _mon amour_, what? What is it?"

He grasped my hands. "Run away. We can leave this place. Be together forever."

I was silent for a moment. "Leave St. Nazaire? I don't know if I can."

"Don't you want to be with me?"

"Oh, _Oui, oui_, I do! Very much. But this is my home. I've never been anywhere else. It's just a bit frightening."

"I understand."

I sighed heavily. "Let me think about it. I know that's not what you wanted to here, but I need some time. I'm sorry."

"Oh, take some time. It is a big decision, I know. I've been thinking for a week myself."

"I'll sleep on it. Let's meet back here tomorrow."

"_Oui, ma cherie_."

We hugged. Clung to each other is more like it. Then we kissed. The feel of his lips made me want to run right then. But I knew I had to think about it. As we parted, fresh tears stung my eyes.

(-)(-)(-)(-)

Sam Winchester opened his eyes. That had to be the weirdest dream ever. But it was better than the nightmares. But why was he a woman? And why did it feel more like deja vu than a dream? Questions without answers.

He rolled over in the squeaky hotel bed and muttered, "Jean-Pierre." Why did he say that?

"You say something, Sammy?" Dean Winchester called from the bathroom. He peeked his head around the door, a yellow toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

"No," Sam replied, yawning. "And don't call me that."

Dean grinned, a bit of toothpaste dribbling out. "Okay, Sammy." He went back into the bathroom.

Sam groaned as he sat up. He couldn't remember the town they were in. Somewhere in California. Southern California. Somewhere. Whatever.

Dean came out of the bathroom. "Get up, Sam. Come on, we got a case."

Sam fell back onto the bed. "We should be searching for dad."

"We are. But this is important." He tossed a newspaper on the bed.

Sam picked it up. _Redlands Daily Facts_. Well, now he knew where they were. Having never heard of Redlands, it didn't help much.

"'**_Mysterious Death_**'," Sam read aloud. "'_Yesterday, 22 year old Amanda Fukagawa was found dead in her apartment. There were no marks on her and, as far as can be told, there was no reason for her to have died. The doctors proclaimed her as healthy as could be.'"_ Sam looked up. "So?"

"So?" Dean repeated. "So, that is the fifth person to die like that in the past two months."

"Okay, fine. Any leads?"

"Not a one."

Sam rolled over. "Great."

"Why are you so tired? You didn't have any nightmares."

"How can you tell?"

"When you have a nightmare you mumble and twitch and stuff."

"Oh. Well, I dreamt, but it wasn't a nightmare." Sam yawned again. "I'm just tired."

"Oh, okay. Get up. I'll get some coffee."

Sam half rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. He heard Dean leave. He turned on the shower and let the cold water shock him awake. He then adjusted the water and undressed. As the warm waterfall fell over him, he again thought of the dream. Monique Couste. That had been his name in the dream. It sounded familiar. He had been speaking French, as had Jean-Pierre. He didn't know French. He had taken Spanish in high school. Yet he understood it completely. Weird. Dreams were difficult to decipher, he knew, but this was impossible.

He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Dean was sitting at the table, nibbling on a piece of toast. Two steaming cups of coffee sat next to his plate. He looked up from the newspaper as Sam entered the room. Suddenly, Sam wished he had gotten dressed. But why? Dean was his brother. He'd seen Sam naked before. No big deal. And yet Sam found himself blushing as Dean looked at him.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and grabbed his clothes off the bed. He retreated back into the bathroom to dress. He'd never done that before, but something made him. Something in his mind told him it wasn't right. Wasn't proper. Wait, what? Proper? He was losing it. Big time.

He shook his head and got dressed.

"I found someone we can talk to," Dean said when Sam came out. He pointed at the article. "Aaron McDonald. His roommate was Richard Hunt, the fourth victim. Aaron was the one who found the body."

"Okay, lets go talk to him." Sam sipped the coffee, burning his tongue.

(-)(-)(-)(-)

"So, do any of the victims have anything in common?" Sam asked as they drove to the college.

"Yeah, they all go to the same college," Dean replied. "And they all have the same major. Math."

"Who are the victims?"

Dean pointed to a piece of paper sticking from the glove compartment. Sam took it out. There were five names on it.

"Cyndi Wiig, age 23," Sam read aloud. "Danielle Stevenson, age 22. Angelo Mendez, age 21. Richard Hunt, age 19. And Amanda Fukagawa, age 22."

Dean nodded. "Yup. They all went to the University of Redlands. Math majors. Good students. 4.0s and stuff."

"Okay, and what about Aaron? The same?"

"No. He goes to the U of R, but he's not a math major. I don't know anything else about him."

They pulled onto the campus and parked. After asking around a bit, they found Aaron's dorm room.

"Now remember, he just lost his roommate," Sam whispered. "Be nice."

"Don't worry." Dean knocked on the door.

(-)(-)(-)(-)

What do you think? Nice, huh? I'm aware there was no incesty yummyness. That's a bit later. Now, review!


	2. Meeting Aaron

_**I dreamt of you the other night...  
**__Cassandra Sunn_

Story Rating: PG-13 for incest, homosexuality, and language.

Chapter Rating: PG for language and homosexual talk.

Genre: Romance

Summery: Dean and Sam have a new case in Redlands, CA. While there, Sam starts having strange dreams that seem to be more than that. Could the be images of the past? Rating for later chapters. DeanSam. One-sided OCSam.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Supernatural_. I do not own _Redlands Daily Facts_. And, just to be on the safe side, I don't own Redlands, California, St. Nazaire, or France. I do own Monique Couste, Jean-Pierre Charpontier, Francois Capet, and their families, also Aaron McDonald, and all the dead people. No stealing! growls at evil people stealers

Warnings: **WARNING!** There is slash in this story! And not just any slash. Incest slash. If that ain't your particular cup of tea, go away. Incesty tea is all I have... I'm still going to get flamed for this...

Mindless Dribble: I hate plotbunnies!

(-)(-)(-)(-)  
_Chapter Two: Meeting Aaron  
_(-)(-)(-)(-)

Dean knocked on the door.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," a voice called. The door opened slightly.

"Aaron McDonald?" Dean asked.

"Yes," Aaron answered.

"My name is Detective White. This is my partner, Detective Day. I understand your roommate was Richard Hunt?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, we're looking into the recent deaths and we'd like to ask you a few questions, if we may."

"Of course," Aaron said as he opened the door wider. "But I was already questioned."

"Yes, but Ms. Fukagawa's death has led us to believe there is something more to this case that was recently thought."

"Oh, yes, poor Mandy-chan."

"You are familiar with Ms. Fukagawa?"

"Yeah, she and Richard were study buddies. Or so they said." Aaron grinned knowingly. "Come on in."

Sam followed Dean in, studying Aaron. He wore low-rise dark blue jeans and a tight black tank top. His light brown hair reached mid back and was in a braid.

"Forgive me for saying this," Sam said, "but you don't seem upset."

"Me and Dickie weren't that close. To tell the truth, he was annoying. Mr. Perfect." Aaron made a face. "I was planning to switch rooms anyway."

"Okay, well, your feelings aside, what was Mr. Hunt like?" Dean asked, taking out a small pad of paper and a pencil.

Aaron sat on his bed. "Dickie was a perfect student. Straight A's. Math genius. The usual Einstein. Without the fooked up hair style, of course. He was a poster boy for math nerds." While he talked, he stared straight at Sam.

"And can you please tell me how you found him?" Dean continued, not realizing Aaron was focused on Sam.

"It was morning. I woke up at my usual time, 7:30. And Dickie was still asleep. Now that was weird. His first class was at 6:00. And he never took a day off. If he was paralyzed from the neck down, he would learn to walk with his ears. Anyway, he looked like he was sleeping, so I shook him. He was cold as ice. I've seen enough movies to know a corpse. So I did the only thing I could think of. I screamed like a little girl." Aaron laughed. "Sure brought people fast."

When Aaron laughed, Sam felt chills run down his spine. What was with this guy? Why was he making Sam feel so uneasy? And why did he seem so familiar? Sam had never been to Redlands before, hadn't even heard of it. And he was sure he would remember if he had met Aaron somewhere else.

"Detective?" Aaron said. Sam snapped away from his thoughts. "You okay?"

"Um, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure you're detectives?" Aaron asked. "You seem a bit young, plus you're not very professional. Casual clothes, t.v. cop questions, zoning out. I'm not an idiot. You didn't even show your badges."

"Why would we lie?" Dean asked calmly. "What would we gain by asking you questions?"

Aaron shrugged. "I don't know. You're the liars, not me." He stood. "Now, if there are no more questions, I have a class in fifteen minutes."

"Do remember anything out of the ordinary? Anything strange?"

"Aside from the fact that an extremely healthy guy just up and died? No."

"Okay, that's all for now." Dean tucked the notepad back into his pocket. "Thank you for your time, Mr. McDonald."

"Not a problem, Detective White, was it?" Aaron smirked. "I have to say, you did fool me at first. I simply love the new things the drama class comes up with."

"We're not in drama, Mr. McDonald," Sam said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, _Detective_." Aaron stuck out his hand. "It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Day. Maybe next time, you wont have to lie to me."

Sam shook his hand. A voice slid through his mind. _Bonjour, Monique, _it said._ J'adore, ma cherie._ He pulled his hand away.

Aaron looked confused for a second, but quickly smiled again. "Very lovely to meet you." He strode over to his desk and wrote something on a loose slip of paper. He handed it to Sam. "My cell number. Just in case you have any other questions."

Sam took it, being very careful not to touch Aaron's hand. "Um, thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Good-bye, Mr. McDonald," Dean said.

"Mm-hmm, good-bye," Aaron replied, not really paying attention.

Dean and Sam left, closing the door behind them. As soon as they were out of the building, Dean started laughing.

"Oh, shut up," Sam muttered.

"I'm sorry, man, but that is funny."

"No, it's not."

"Aaron likes you."

"Shut up."

"No. It's not every day my little brother has a gay admirer. Unless you're not telling me something."

Sam didn't reply. He got in the car and started it up. "Come on, let's go."

Dean got in the car, still chuckling. "Are you going to go out with him?"

Sam silently drove away.

"You know I'm just messing with you, Sammy."

"Whatever."

"Well, he doesn't know your name, so he can't find you. Don't worry about it. We can laugh about it later."

"I don't think so."

"Oh, you will laugh. One day, you're going to laugh."

Sam shook his head. Aaron was a bit too creepy. And what was with that voice? Whose was it? It spoke French, but it wasn't from his dream. He was starting to doubt it really was just a dream. He'd heard about people dreaming about past lives. Maybe that was what it was. In a past life, he was a French girl named Monique. Great. Obviously Aaron knew him in that life. Well, one mystery solved.

He was so lost in thought, he didn't even realize Dean had been talking.

"...didn't like him. But he didn't seem like a killer."

"Hmm?" Sam glanced over at Dean.

"You weren't listening?"

"No, sorry."

"I said, Aaron didn't like Richard, but he doesn't seem like a killer."

"We're not looking for a person. This is some kind of spirit."

"What we're looking for is a Soul-Eater."

"A Soul-Eater? How do you know?"

"Well, I read all the articles about the deaths. And I read through dad's journal. It's the only logical explanation."

"Dean, when dealing with supernatural forces, logic goes straight out the window."

"Fine, smart ass. It's the most likely. Better?"

"Sure. What are the characteristics of a Soul-Eater's victims?"

"It's different for each one. But the Soul-Eater usually know's its victim, or at least of them. It is someone who was very unhappy during life and is now back after death to seek his revenge. With the help of a demoniac possession, of course."

"Of course."

"So we're looking for a murder or suicide about two months ago, maybe three. A college student, probably a math major."

"Okay, let's start with that."

(-)(-)(-)(-)

Yayness! Another chapter done! Still no incesty goodness, but some cute gayness. Review time!


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